Up at 4 a.m.--well, 4 a.m. Minnesota time, which I never really got off of--and walking up my front steps by 11 a.m. In the van to the airport the two women I rode with were talking about books and writing and revising, and suddenly the van driver blurted out, "Are you guys writers?"
In tones of awe. Tones that we never, ever hear. It was funny, and fun.
Though I had most of the day at home, I did not have it in me to do any serious work today. I started reading Joshua Ferris' novel, because I have to interview him in April, but I didn't do anything at all to my thesis, other than to reformat it the way that Rebecca asked me to. (Indented paragraphs and no extra space between paragraphs. Apparently my manuscript looked a lot like this blog post.)
I napped with Rosie. I walked Rosie. I walked Riley. I unpacked. I played online Scrabble with my brothers and my sister.
While I was in North Carolina, Doug kept me up to date on the animals in the park--foxes on the frozen lake, hooting and flying owls, a raccoon descending from a tree right in front of Rosie (and you can imagine how much Rosie liked that).
|The park tonight|